Roberts’s gaze shot to the door. He grinned, a predatory slash of lips. “And? Are we waiting for an invitation to enter?”
“The door is locked,” Jackson said.
Anna scowled and held up her lockpicking tool from her jacket’s inner pocket, glad she’d had the mind to sneak it when the men hadn’t been looking. “You know I can pick that lock with my eyes closed.”
“Can you?” Roberts asked.
“No,” Jackson said the same time Anna said, “Yes.”
Roberts gave a faint whistle. “I’d like to see that.”
Jackson’s brows furrowed. “We don’t know who is back there. Or how many.”
She raised her chin. “Give me fifteen seconds, and I will give you the information directly.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“Hate the interrupt.” Roberts moved to Anna’s other side so they all stood flush against the wall. It was the perfect excuse for Anna to shift her position and place her hands behind her back, her tool in hand.
“But the barkeep will return to the front before too long,” Roberts continued. “Apparently, drunks are notorious for slipping behind the bar and serving themselves.” He sighed. “Truly, they ruin the fun for the rest of us smart enough not to get caught.”
“Then by all means,” Jackson said. “Let us return and plan our next moves. For a different night when we have backup.”
Anna near bit her tongue off to keep her tone low and mildly civil. She tapped her foot to distract the two from what she was doing behind her back. “We may not get another chance like this.”
“Wehave nothing to do with this,” Jackson whispered vehemently. “Roberts and the other agents at the Home Office will see to what is behind that door.”
Snitch.
Anna smirked. “That won’t be necessary.” She stepped back and raised her tool. “Because I already unlocked the door.”
There was stunned silence from both men before—
“You reckless, stubborn fool.” Jackson took her by the shoulders and pressed her against the wall, real panic in his voice now. “Lock it before the barkeep comes back.”
“It’s too late for that,” Roberts said, his tone urgent.
Anna and Jackson stopped.
There were sounds of heavy footfalls from the other side of the door.
Jackson cursed. His eyes were hard, piercing when he said to her, “Roberts goes first.”
Anna nodded. A duchess or a seasoned Home agent takes the lead? She was a reckless, stubborn fool, not an idiot.
Jackson moved in front of her. A flash of metal, a long knife in his hand.
Anna’s eyes widened at the weapon, but Roberts caught her attention with a hand signal—one Anna realized Jackson must have taught him.
Move on three. I’ll take the left. Jackson take right.
One.
Two.
Three.
Anna didn’t have time to think about much except the door being pushed open and the two men moving.One beast, two heads.
